


Even If We Can't Find Heaven, I'll Walk Through Hell With You

by OmegaJay



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt Thomas, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-The Death Cure, Recovered Memories, The Fever Code Spoilers, Thominho Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7251844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmegaJay/pseuds/OmegaJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Submission for Day 1 of Thominho Week 2016</b>
</p><p>Thomas woke up screaming.</p><p>It was a nightmare, no… it was a <em>memory</em>.</p><p>Thomas held his head in his hands as waves of memories surged into his brain, in the form a green-suited man, white room, and <em>pain</em>.</p><p>or</p><p>Thomas remembers what WICKED did to him, and Minho feels helpless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even If We Can't Find Heaven, I'll Walk Through Hell With You

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY THOMINHO WEEK 2016 Y'ALL!  
> This is my Day 1 submission, canon :3
> 
> Be warned that this has major spoilers for The Fever Code, chapter 1 - 2, but basically it revolves around what WICKED did to make Stephen (aka Thomas) accept his new name.
> 
> Enough with the rant, enjoy (or not)!
> 
> Title from Stand By You by Rachel Platten.
> 
> Disclaimer: I ain't got no ownership over the characters in this story.

Thomas woke up screaming.

It was a nightmare, no… it was a _memory_.

Thomas held his head in his hands as waves of memories surged into his brain, in the form a green-suited man, white room, and _pain_.

_He was only four._

_“Thomas, come with me,” the man said._

_“Don’t call me Thomas, my name is Stephen!”_

**_Stephen, Stephen, Stephen. My name is Stephen._ **

Minho startled awake next to Thomas, “What the shuck, shank?” annoyed that he was being woken up in the middle of the night. Minho glanced over at Thomas’s hunched over figure, “What’s the problem, shuck-face?” he prodded Thomas’s shoulder slightly with his finger, weirded out by how sweaty Thomas was.

_Randall Spilker was his name._

_“We’d give you some more time to choose to take your new name voluntarily, but time isn’t a luxury we have anymore,” Randall said._

_He held up a tiny piece of shiny silver; one end rounded, the other tapered to a razor-sharp point. He inserted into the child right below his chin, sharp pain made the child yelped._

_“Wh-what was that?” the child stammered._

Thomas shook his head hard, trying to stop the memories from rushing so fast back into him. He panted as he held his head in hands, remembering what WICKED had done to him, when he was only _four_ , and how it _hurt_.

He couldn’t even hear Minho calling out to him.

_“What’s it going to do to me?!”_

_“Well, that depends… **Thomas** , all you need to do is tell me your name.”_

_“That’s easy. Stephen.”_

_Randall let his head fall into his hands. “Do it,” he said to his colleague, his voice little more than a tired whisper._

_And then the pain came._

“UWAHHHHHH!” Thomas screamed as memories of the pain surged through his body. _It hurts! Make it stop!_ He thought as he flailed his limbs and accidentally kicking the sheets off the bed. Agony erupted through his veins and muscles as he continued to scream.

“Hey! Hey! Thomas!” Minho jolted and panicked, immediately wrapped his arms around Thomas, unsure what was happening to him as Thomas fought against his hold.

_“What…” the child whispered, throat burned from how much he’d screamed, “What?” he repeated, mind struggling to connect the pieces._

_“I tried to tell you Thomas, we don’t have to time to mess around. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s important to everyone here that you accept your new name.”_

“How could you hurt me?” Thomas whispered, sniveling.

“Huh…?” Minho got even more confused.

“…I’m just a little kid.” Thomas pathetically echoed his younger self, lost between past and present.

“What do you mean…?” Minho asked quizzically.

_“All you have to do is accept a name! Now—I’m not playing around anymore. What’s your name?”_

**_My name is Stephen._ ** _“Thomas, my name is Thomas.”_

_“I don’t believe you,” Randall responded, his eyes pools of darkness. “Again.”_

Thomas let out another scream into Minho’s chest. He screamed like he was dying because it felt exactly so, he couldn’t escape the pain, his body thrashed inside Minho’s embrace, legs kicking in random direction. Minho felt a pang of hurt in his chest, “I’m here, Thomas, I’m here…” Minho whispered as he held Thomas as tight as possible, he figured that some of Thomas’s memories must’ve returned, and it wasn’t the happy ones. His heart tugged emphatically as he witnessed Thomas suffer, even after all those trials he faced.

_“What’s your name?”_  
_“Thomas.”_  
_“I don’t believe you.”_  
_“No…” the child whimpered._

“AGHHHHHH!” the scream muffled into Minho’s chest. Minho couldn’t do anything but to hug Thomas tight, hoping that it would pass soon. He choked back his tears at Thomas’s agonizing screams, trying hard to hold down Thomas as well as he could. He didn’t care Thomas’s sweat was dampening him, not when Thomas was in so much pain. He _hated_ being so helpless when it came to Thomas.

 _“What’s your name?”_  
_“Thomas.”_  
_“I don’t want you to forget.”_  
_“No…” the child cried, trembling with sobs._

Tears flow down Thomas’s cheeks as more screams were forced out of his lungs. Ragged breaths as he hiccoughed, lungs and throat burned from the repetitive screams. “AGHHHHH!” he screamed as once more the pain electrocuted every vein in his body. _Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop!_ Thomas dug his fingers into his arms, trying to dig out the pain.

Minho immediately grabbed hold of Thomas’s hands preventing him from hurting himself, he bit his lip. “Stay strong, Thomas,” he whispered into Thomas’s hair as he rested his chin on top of Thomas’s head, but he knew Thomas couldn’t hear him, still deep in his memories. _Please let it end soon._ Minho thought.

 _“What’s your name?”_  
_“Thomas.”_  
_“Do you have any other name?”_  
_“No. Only Thomas.”_  
_“Okay. Then I’ll give you one last reminder.”_

Thomas’s throat was hoarse as he screamed one last time, slumping himself onto Minho. He felt numb as sweat covered his whole body, panting as he struggled to catch his breathe. The only comfort he felt right now was the familiar embrace he was in that he couldn’t interpret with his current state of mind.

“You okay there…?” Minho asked softly as he held Thomas’s shoulders to face him.

“My name is Stephen…” Thomas weakly mumbled with a rasp, eyes hooded.

Minho couldn’t hear clearly, “What?”

“My name is Stephen…” Thomas chanted, his mind confused.

“You’re gonna fine, you’re safe with me…” Minho hugged Thomas into his chest again.

“My name is Stephen…”

“Shhh…” Minho shushed him as he rocked Thomas back and forth, “go to sleep…”

“My name is Stephen…” Thomas whispered one last time as he passed out from the overwhelming exhaustion.

Minho let out a breath of relief when Thomas finally went limp in his arms. It’s finally over. What did WICKED do to Thomas? He hated WICKED with all his heart, hated them for doing this to Thomas, when he was only a _child_ , as he recalled the weak mumbles from Thomas.

At least they were safe here at Paradise, safe from sun flares, from cranks, from _WICKED_.

Glancing at the brunette whose breaths started to even, he wiped the tears off Thomas’s cheeks. Even after all those trials, Thomas still looked so young, so pure, someone that shouldn’t have to face those cruel, inhumane events that were called _trials_.

Minho laid Thomas’s lithe body back onto the bed, stuffing a pillow comfortably under Thomas’s head. He picked up the sheets from the floor, gently covering both of them with it. Then he wrapped his arms around the sleeping boy’s body from behind, content with the soft snores by the brunette, he pecked the nape of the boy.

“Sleep well, Thomas…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment please?
> 
> See ya tomorrow!


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